Well this was a pretty pickle and no mistake. The pumps down here had long since been scrapped or taken elsewhere, and without them it hadn’t been long before the water had deepened once again. At this point, the air space at the top of the tunnel was fairly slim; if there was even a single pocket of bad air she was dead. Rowanne considered doubling back once again, but this was the way the current flowed, meaning it was her best chance of getting out of here, as down a drift the water flowed outwards.

Bracing herself against the impending cold, she took a step forward, checking her footing with every step. But even as she was braced, the freezing murk still made Rowanne gasp. She tilted her head back to get air for as long as she could as she pulled her way forward. The cold felt almost like clawed hands on her flesh as she made her way through the narrow passage.

Before long, the gap became even narrower than before. Now it was either turn back and risk freezing to death before she ever got out, or take a gamble the flooded area was not flooded for too long. Certain death or uncertain death, tough choice. She took one last, huge, gasping breath and set out.

The murky mess was nearly impossible to see in, and in any case she really did not wish to open her eyes on water this stagnant. So she trusted her hands, grasping and pulling herself forward, using the wall as guidance. Forward, forward, there had to be air ahead. There had to be. She was starting to feel tired as the cold seeped into her bones, and her lungs were urging her to take just one breath, just one.

They started to contract in her chest, so she started thinking of nothing else but the tunnel ahead, and Mary waiting for her at home. The pressure was getting worse and worse. Her head was swimming, and her lungs were screaming at her now, just one sweet breath, please, she needed air. Then just as it felt like she might burst, there it was, air, beautiful air.

She took a few gasping breaths, almost laughing in relief as she clambered clear of the freezing water that had almost become her grave. She took a few minutes to catch her breath, thanking the heavens she could breathe again.

Even if Rowanne wasn’t entirely sure how the heavens felt about her kind anymore it never hurt to be grateful. The drift ahead had partially collapsed, but after all she had been through she was pretty much out of fear at this point.

With a sigh she started to crawl again, keeping herself low, and her pick at the ready. The clarts beneath her were hard to keep a hold in, and lying on her back sliding through it was singularly unpleasant. But at least as a hewer it was a familiar experience. There were a few spots where larger rocks jabbed and needled at her as she squeezed past them. Times like this though she was extremely glad she had figured out to crawl on her back and keep her hair covered; as a girl, crawling on her chest would have greatly slowed her down, and this way if things got too tight she could use her elbows, and even dig her heels in and use her shoulders to shift forward, even if the speed of doing so was glacial.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

She carefully squeezed past another large rock, wincing as a rotten prop long past all usefulness left her with a handful of spelks*. At least now, though, the end was in sight. She could see where it widened out just a little ahead, and with a little luck she would soon be out of here. But first one...... last...... squeeze. It was starting to feel like she wasn’t going to be able to make it as the stone around her compressed her chest painfully.

She couldn’t move her arms at all now as she did the only thing she could and pushed with her feet. Pushing her boots into the slippery clods. Doing her best to keep her head up out of the vile water beneath her. Almost wishing for a moment that she’d used the expensive hobnails in her boots like her colleagues as she struggled to find purchase where the ground was effectively slop. Then with a final push her chest was clear and her arms were free enough to pull her clear.

Now the drift ahead was clear as she looked around at the flooded remains of the storage they had once kept the tools in. That was never too far from the exit; it wouldn’t be much longer. Off to the side was the rotted remains of a door with a warning sign for explosives that would have long since become useless in all this damp.

Now all Rowanne had to do was keep to the tracks and she would be free. Her nerve finally gave out a little, and she started to laugh in relief, finding she couldn’t stop as hysteria and relief took over… only to hear the worst possible sound she could hear at that time. Another voice laughing along from the lefthand tunnel.

HeHehEhEheHehE.

“Oh BOLLOCKS”. No point in keeping quiet at this point, Rowanne looked ahead and started to run, her feet pounding the tunnel floor as she legged it. She looked behind her heart pounding, and really really really wished she hadn’t.

It was Cutty, scuttling along the tunnel towards her on its six long, spindly sticklike limbs. Like the world's creepiest bloody spider. She stumbled and by dint of sheer adrenaline managed to keep her footing. Nothing else mattered at this point but getting the hell away.

RUNRUNRUNRUNRUN, her limbs were burning, but she couldn’t stop, just keep pumping your legs Rowanne, the abomination behind her, and the warm feeling trickling down her leg telling her that despite her belief earlier she had plenty of fear left after all.

Her feet pounded at the stone beneath her kicking up the water that was dragging at her almost like it was trying to pull her back down, she was starting to sag, when at last she saw it. Daylight dead ahead. She could make it. Just a little more and she would be clear.

Then she felt a stick-like hand grasping at her back, before her tail swished free and swung out hard behind her, eliciting a terrifying hiss from Cutty’s inhuman throat. A strange feeling of impact from a limb she’d never used before, and best of all a loosening of the hand whose claws were just starting to dig into her flesh.

Then she was free, dashing forward at the sheer speed of terror, as she burst clear of that abominable place into the blinding light of day where Cutty wouldn’t follow, and sprinted on as fast and far as her legs would carry her back towards the distant sight of the village.